My son locked the door when I went to see him and pretended he wasnt home.
I knew he was inside.
I saw the light on.
I could hear the television as well.
But when I knocked, that hush set inthe kind when someone chooses not to answer on purpose.
I stood outside the door and waited.
I knocked again.
And then a third time.
Eventually, I just leaned against the wall in the hallway and whispered,
Oliver I know youre in there.
Nothing.
Only the television carried on chatting.
It struck me then, that you can feel lonelier standing before a closed door than when youre completely alone.
I am his mother.
I raised him by myself.
His father walked out when Oliver was six.
I remember taking him to school every morning, staying up all night when he had a fever, and how, as a little boy, hed get scared of the dark and crawl into my bed.
Mum, please dont leave me alone.
And now, I was standing alone outside his door.
A few minutes later, the lift doors opened.
Mrs. Turner from the third floor stepped out and glanced at me.
Are you waiting for someone?
I offered an awkward smile.
My son.
She looked down the corridor at his door.
But he just got home.
My heart sank.
I know.
I hurried down the stairs instead of waiting for the lift, not wanting to break down in tears in front of anyone.
Out on the street, my phone vibrated.
A message.
From Oliver.
Mum, Im sorry. It just wasnt the right time.
The right time.
Those words felt so strange.
I didnt sleep at all that night.
The next day, I decided not to message him.
If someone doesnt want to open their door for you, you cant force them.
Three days went by.
Then my phone rang.
It was Oliver.
His voice sounded different.
Mum can we meet?
Why?
He paused for a moment.
Because something happened yesterday.
What?
The neighbours son asked me something.
He sighed.
He asked why his grandmother always comes to visit him, but my mum never does.
My heart squeezed.
And what did you say?
Nothing I didnt know what to say.
Then he whispered,
I realised that if I keep going like this, one day my own son will think its normal to shut the door in his mothers face.
Silence.
Mum will you come again?
I stared at my phone for a long time.
Then I answered quietly,
Will you open the door this time?
On the other end, a simple reply.
Yes.
And sometimes, thats the hardest thing for a personto open the door.
What would you do if you were in my place?
